Just the Beginning
by GregsMadHatter
Summary: Sequel to No Safe Place. After two months, Greg is coming to the end of his training. But one case poses him as the main suspect and Greg has to figure out who is framing him, and all evidence he collects leads him to believe that it the person who is sup
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Just the Beginning**

**Author: GregSanders**

**Summary: Sequel to No Safe Place. After two months, Greg is coming to the end of his training. But one case poses him as the main suspect and Greg has to figure out who is framing him, and all evidence he collects leads him to believe that it the person who is supposed to be in jail.**

**Spoilers: N/A**

**Disclaimer: I do not own CSI. Maybe if I had 1 million bucks, but…I don't.**

**A/N: How can I resist? You guys really inspired me with your "great story" reviews and some reviewers wanted a sequel and I had fun writing the last two…so…voila!**

**Chapter 1**

_The sun beat down on the Las Vegas city at a high of 90 degrees. Tim Caldwell was walking home after a long day of work at the National Monument Bank and was beat tired. The rays of the sun warmed his body as he continued his short 2 mile walk. Now was the time that he wished he hadn't got into that car accident a couple weeks ago. People were busy walking into their favorite casinos to gamble, to shop, or just to get out of the outrageous heat. But Tim had a wife that was waiting for him, so he didn't have time to go in and cool off in the casino's air conditioned building. Finally, he was off the strip and in his neighborhood of Summerlin. It was a beautiful neighborhood and he and his wife, Katrina, had spent almost all of their savings to buy a home in the place. He was just a few blocks away from his house when a gun-shot rang out and struck him in the back. As he turned to see his attacker, he fell to the ground and slowly dipped into darkness._

* * *

Two months. Two months was how long Greg Sanders had witness the two men that tormented him oh so long ago finally get the justice they had deserved and when Grissom had informed him that he would begin his laborious training to become a Crime Scene Investigator. But of all the time in the year for Vegas to go on a Crime spree, Vegas had chosen the last two months to pile case after case on the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Successfully, Greg had closed two robberies, five rapes, three assaults, and God knows how many homicides. It was starting to take its toll on the former DNA lab tech, but it was worth it. Greg had just finished another robbery and was grabbing a sandwich out of the break-room's fridge when Grissom came in with an assignment sheet. "There you are Greg."

As soon as Greg saw the assignment slip clenched in his boss's hands, he knew what was coming next. "What is it this time?"

"A 419 in Summerlin. I just sent Nick over to give you a helping hand. He'll fill you in on what's up there."

"And where are you going?"

Grissom turned and looked at the young man. "I have a lunch date to attend to."

In fact, Grissom was referring to the lunch date he had previously set up for him and Sara at her favorite vegetarian restaurant. After the whole ordeals that the lab had previously encountered, four of the team members had fallen in love. Grissom and Sara had pronounced that they were, in fact, dating while Warrick had finally picked up the courage to go on a couple of dates with Catherine. The only two people left were Greg and Nick, and, of course, they were just the by-standers watching the romance unfold before their very eyes…and often enough…go and sabotage their dates. After Grissom had walked out of Greg's sight, Greg threw the sandwich back into the fridge and headed over to his Denali to go and meet Nick at the crime scene.

* * *

When Greg pulled up to the crime scene tape, the sun had just set and the moon was beginning to rise. The red and blue strobe lights on top of the squad cars lit up the neighborhood as news reporters surrounded the yellow tape, trying to get a clear view of the murder. Greg remembered Grissom telling him that reporters were like ants; they swarmed around the best food available to them. As Grissom told him this, he also remembered looking at the reporters and picturing them all as little ants. But, back to the case at hand, Greg showed the officer his ID and proceeded underneath the tape. There, he saw Nick and their residential coroner that barely got out of the lab, Doctor Al Robbins, hovering over the body. Nick was busy taking photos as Doc Robbins took the liver temperature. "Hey guys," greeted Greg.

Nick looked up and smiled. "Hey Greg. Getting tired of being in the field yet?" asked Nick.

"Nah, too much action to take place out here then there is in the lab…no offense Doc."

"Don't sweat it," smiled Doc Robbins as the temperature read 98 degrees. "Due to the intense heat we've been experiencing, I would put TOD at around six hours ago."

Nick snapped another photo as Greg set his case down and overlooked the body. "Did you get an ID on the vic?"

"The guy's name is Tim Caldwell," said Brass from behind. Greg turned around to see Brass reading off his notebook. "His wife, Katrina Caldwell, was taking her afternoon run when she saw him lying like this on the ground."

"Is she here now?" asked Greg.

"Yeah, she's standing over by a squad car with Lieutenant Davies."

Greg nodded and turned to Nick. "I'll go chat with the wife."

Nick nodded as Greg got up and walked over to the wife. Tears were streaming down her face as Lieutenant Davies placed a blanket around her shoulders. As Greg approached, he nodded for Davies to leave. And sure enough, he left. Greg smiled at the thought of being able to dismiss cops whenever he needed them to leave. It was so cool! But Greg put on his serious face and began to speak. "Mrs. Caldwell?"

Katrina looked up at Greg. "I'm Greg Sanders from the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I'm terribly sorry for your loss. I'm going to ask you a few questions, okay?"

Katrina nodded as Greg smiled. "Mrs. Caldwell, where were you about six hours ago?"

"I was…at home cooking dinner for Tim and me. When he didn't show up, I just thought that the bank was making him work over time. After I ate, I changed into my running outfit and ran down the street when I saw Tim…laying there. I screamed and the neighbors began running out of their house. Ms. Jubilee…she's the one that dialed 911, ran up to me and held me close as I cried my eyes out. Then you guys showed up."

"What bank does your husband work at?" asked Greg.

"He works…worked…at the National Monument Bank. It's next to the Venetian, you can't miss it."

Greg jotted it down and sighed heavily. "That's all the questions I have for now. Where can I contact you if I have anymore questions?"

"At home…or at Bell's Diner. I'm a waitress there."

"Okay, thank you for your time."

Katrina nodded her head as Greg motioned for Davies to come back and keep her company. When Greg re-approached the crime scene, he saw Nick photographing some foot prints. "Find anything?"

"Yeah, I found a pair of footprints…around size 11, running away from the body."

Greg looked down and saw the impressions of the footprints. "Those look like Adidas All-Stars."

"And how do you know that?"

"I use to own a pair like them. Great shoes…until…"

"Until what?" asked Nick.

Greg clearly remembered what had happened to those shoes. They were the same shoes he was wearing the day that he was dropped into a water tank and nearly drowned. The shoes were covered with blood and were too water-damaged to ever wear them again. Knowing what Greg was thinking about, Nick quickly changed the subject. "Doc Robbins stated that COD was a through and through gun shot to the back. I haven't found the gun or the bullet, so why don't you go take a look around."

Greg nodded and picked up his case. As he walked down the sidewalk, Doc Robbins and his gang of coroners began wheeling the dead body away. As Greg got farther and farther away from the tape, the street grew dimmer and dimmer. It was growing pitch black when a small brass gleam caught Greg's eye in the sewer. Greg shined his flashlight on the object and found a bullet. Pleased with himself, he carefully picked up the bullet with a pair of tweezers and bagged the item. When he put the bullet in his kit, he turned back around and headed back towards the crime scene where he saw Nick piling into his Tahoe. "I found a bullet down about a half a block from here."

"Great, get it to ballistics. I'm going to go back to the lab and run the shoe impressions and see what comes up."

"Cool, I think I'll stick around here for a little bit, see if I can find anything."

Nick nodded and got into his Tahoe, speeding away. As soon as Nick's car was gone, Greg headed back under the tape when reporters began to swarm around him. "Sir, what can you tell us about this case?"

But Greg ignored them and got back to work. They were like a pack of hungry lions feeding over an antelope, and Greg was the antelope. Finally, Brass was able to push them away and gave Greg an open opportunity to work in some peace…if you call a crime scene peaceful. As Greg scanned the area, Brass came running up to him. "Hey Greg, I got something you may want to see."

Greg followed Brass back down the street to a garbage can. "It's a garbage can."

"Look inside."

With gloved hands, Greg opened the lid and saw a rifle standing inside the empty bin. "Well done detective."

Greg photographed the gun then began to dust for fingerprints. A nice print came up on the grip. "Looks like our killer made a mistake."

TBC…

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So, what do you think guys? Please R&R and please no flames!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, I didn't think that you guys would read this. I thought you were going to say, "She already did a sequel, why make another?" You definitely proved me wrong! Thanks for the reviews! (Also, thanks to Not2BForgotten for giving me the help on how to get this new chapter up!) **

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Chapter 2**

When Greg arrived back at the lab, he found Nick in the fingerprint lab looking at a computer screen. "Hey Nicky, what's up?"

"Just running those shoe impressions from the crime scene. You know how many shoes are in the system?"

Not knowing, Greg shrugged and walked over to Jacqui, the fingerprint expert. "Hey Jacqui, can you run these fingerprints?"

"Sure thing…and seeing as you were a former lab rat yourself; I'll make it top priority."

Greg mouthed 'thank you' and began to walk out when the computer at which Nick was sitting at beeped, confirming a match. "What do you know Greg, you were right.

Adidas All-Stars size 11."

"Yeah, well there's probably a thousand people who own that shoe," sighed Greg.

"Well, how many of them are size 11 and are in the Las Vegas area? I'm gonna head on over to Brass, see if I can get a list of who owns them and where they live."

Nick ran out of the lab as Greg headed down to Ballistics. "Hey Bobby!"

"Hey, if it isn't Greg Sanders. What do I owe the pleasure?"

That's when Greg held up the little evidence bag holding up the bullet and the rifle. "How about you tell me what gun this bullet came from and if it matches this rifle?"

"Great, why don't we get started on it right now?" said Bobby, taking the gun and placing a bullet into the cartridge. Then, he put the barrel of the rifle into the test-firing range and handed a pair of ear-muffs to Greg. "Fire one!"

Bobby pulled the trigger as a loud blast filled the room, running through the earmuffs protecting their fragile ears. Bobby set the gun aside and retrieved the bullet from the water tank, carefully carrying it over to the microscope where the bullet from the crime scene was already located. "Okay, let's see if we have a match."

After a few minutes, Bobby smiled. "Voila! We have a perfect match. Striations match up perfectly from the bullet recovered at the crime scene."

"Thanks Bobby," smiled Greg as he took the rifle and headed over to layout room. When he walked into the white room, he placed the rifle on the counter and began looking for a serial number. A little area above the grip looked scratched out. "Great," muttered Greg.

Then, Greg went over to the garage and placed the gun on the counter top. Rummaging through the drawers, he finally found the electronic sander and the magnetizer powder. Greg put on a pair of safety glasses and turned on the electronic sander. The buzzing spinning sander carefully removed some of the metal already surrounding the serial number, but not to cause too much damage, he did a once over and placed the tool off to the side. Then, very carefully, he poured a little bit of the powder of the surface and let it set for a couple minutes. He then brushed away the powder and found a perfect serial number. "Gotcha!"

That's when his pager went off. Looking at the screen, the message read:

Nick in break-room.

Laughing to himself, he picked up the rifle and headed over to the break-room. There, he saw Nick sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in his hands. "Hey Nick's what's up?"

Nick motioned for Greg to sit down. After Greg took a seat, he set the rifle down next to him and looked at Nick. The normal, happy, cheery man that Greg knew was now turned into a solemn, depressed, almost sad looking man. "What's the matter Nick?"

"I looked up records of who owned the shoe and only two people; and man who is in death row…and you."

"What? There has to be more…I mean…you don't think…"

"I don't. You told me that you don't own those shoes anymore."

"Yeah, they were too blood stained and water-damaged to ever wear again. I threw them in the dumpster."

"You're positive?" asked Nick.

"I've never been so serious in my whole life Nick. Anyway, I got a serial off of the murder weapon. Maybe we can get a hit off of that."

Nick nodded and followed Greg over to the researching department. The large room was filled with computers and desks. That is where the CSIs would often do their paperwork and look over their files before court. Taking the computer closest to them, Greg sat down in the seat and pulled up the gun registration page. "What's the serial number?"

"567-842."

Greg typed in the code and hit 'search'. It didn't take very long for the name to pop up, but when it did, it shocked both Nick and Greg. "It can't be…Greg?"

TBC…

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So, Greg owns the murder weapon and has a pair of shoes that match the treads at the crime scene? What the hell is going on:p What's next to come: the case gets more complicated and more evidence begins to point towards Greg. Please R&R!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry I haven't updated for a while, I've been sick and have had writer's block. Anyway, I thought I'd make it up to you guys now.**

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Chapter 3**

"How the hell did this happen?" shouted Grissom.

Nick and Greg went to report their findings to Grissom in his office and now, he was furious. This was the second time that one of his team members was under the scope for murder, the first time being Nick. Nick leant against the wall as Greg leaned forward in his chair. "We don't know how this happened, Grissom. We just collected evidence, that's all," said Nick.

"The shoe imprints belong to a pair of shoes that I use to own. I threw them out after I got back. Also, I have never bought a gun in my entire life. I don't even carry a weapon, you know that," said Greg.

"Then how do you explain the fact that the gun is registered under your name?"

"I don't know. But maybe someone made a false ID. The gun was bought with cash and when you fill out the registration form, you have to put a name. Maybe this guy used my name so he wouldn't get found out," explained Greg.

Grissom sighed and sat down in his seat. "You said you got a finger print off of the weapon, right?"

Greg nodded. "Did Jacqui run it yet?"

"She's running it now," stated Greg.

That's when there came a knock at the door. Nick opened it to reveal Jacqui with a concerned look on her face. "Uh…Grissom. I know this is Greg's case, but I thought I might want to share this information with you first," said Jacqui.

Grissom motioned her in and took the paper from her hands. "Is this correct?"

Jacqui nodded. "Thanks."

Quickly, Jacqui ran out of the room, closing the door behind her. "Well…" urged Greg.

"Greg…the fingerprint came back to you."

Greg immediately stood up from his chair as Nick stepped forward into the light. "WHAT!" they said simultaneously.

"The fingerprint belongs to Greg. I'm sorry Greg, but I'm gonna have to take you off this case until we get this cleared up. Also, you're on suspension with pay until this ordeal is finished, got it?"

Sighing, Greg nodded and walked out the door. Before Nick followed him, he leant against the chair and looked at Grissom. "Grissom…what happens if the evidence points at Greg and it turns out he did it?" he asked.

"Let's not worry about that until the time comes."

"You really don't think it will ever get there, do you?"

"Nick, the evidence never lies. Follow it until it tells you something different."

"Yeah, well maybe the evidence is wrong this time," huffed Nick as he shut the door behind him.

As he walked down the hall, Nick heard a loud _SLAM _come from the locker room. Nick peered in and saw Greg sitting on the bench resting his head in his hands. "Greg? Are you okay?"

Greg looked up and smiled at Nick. "Yeah…I'm fine."

"You want to talk about…"

"There's nothing to talk about Nick. I've gotta go, I'll catch you later."

Greg hurriedly ran past Nick and out to the parking lot to head straight home. Nick knew this was going to be a long shift. As Nick walked down the hallway, he noticed Brass walking out of his office. "Hey Nick, just the man I wanted to talk to. Some guy who lives down the street claims to have seen your murder. You may want to go have a little chat with him."

"Yeah, hopefully he denies anything that the evidence is telling us," muttered Nick as he followed Brass down the hall.

* * *

When Greg arrived home, he threw his jacket onto the love seat and fell immediately onto the sofa. That day had been an extremely long day. Being accused of a murder definitely made time go by real slowly. Hoping to get his mind off of things, Greg turned on his TV, plugged in his Playstation 2 and began to play Madden NFL 2007. He had bought the game a couple days ago for a party he was hosting at his house so that when Nick and Warrick showed up, he could play them. Unfortunately for Greg, he lost to both teams. After playing for four long quarters as the New York Giants, Greg beat the Pittsburgh Steelers. "That's what you get," laughed Greg as he jumped up and began to do his victory dance.

In the middle of his glory, his phone rang. Greg looked at the clock which read 2 AM. "Who would be calling me this early?"

Slowly, Greg walked over to his phone and picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

_"Hey Greggo. How are you?"_ said the eerie voice.

"Who is this?"

_"How does it feel to be on the other end of Law Enforcement? How does it feel to be under the microscope buddy? God knows I've felt that feeling too many times."_

"Who are you?"

_"Hope you enjoyed your career."_

Suddenly, the line went dead. Greg looked at the receiver and slowly put the phone back on the charger. Scared, Greg looked around and grabbed his keys and coat. He needed to get a beer…badly.

TBC…

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So, what do you guys think? Please R&R!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

After paying for his bottle of Samuel Adams, Greg walked out of the bar and got into his car. He couldn't exactly drive home just yet, so he sat in his car and waited for a little bit. That phone call he had just received was continuing to bug him. Should he call and tell Nick about it? It was probably the right thing to do. Maybe it would get the false trail of him off of the case. So, Greg picked up his cellphone and dialed his friend's number. After a couple rings, the friendly Texan accent voice said, _"Stokes."_

"Nick, it's me. Could you do me a favor?"

_"Greg? What's the matter? You sound kind of worried."_

"Well, you would be too if everyone thought you committed murder. Anyway, I just received this eerie phone call from someone. They asked how it felt to be 'under the microscope'. I think they may be framing me. I was hoping that you would go into my phone records for my home phone, find the number that called at 2 AM and trace that number to the owner. It could lead you to the killer."

_"Greg…I was just in with an eye witness. They said that they saw you kill Tim Caldwell."_

"Nick, you know that people lie. You taught me that. Could you please do this. If not for the case, than at least for me. He knew my name, Nick."

Greg could hear Nick sigh on the other line._ "Alright. Make sure that you stay away from the lab, got it? Ecklie's not very happy."_

"Thanks Nick, you're a good friend. Bye." Greg hung up his phone and turned on his radio. They were just about to play some Radiohead when a voice came on and said, _"We have breaking news. 38-year-old Tim Caldwell was shot and killed last night. According to a anonymous source, investigators are working round the clock trying to figure out who the murderer is, especially when their lead suspect is one of their own…"_

Greg immediately turned off the radio and took in a deep breath. The Crime Lab never revealed that kind of information to the public…ever! So how did a radio station get a hold of that information. Before Greg knew it, he ran out of his car, behind the bar and began to puke his guts out.

* * *

Nick had just hung up his phone and sighed. Greg sounded really worried on the other line. Of course, Nick knew how he felt. He was the prime suspect in a murder case years back. But he never got a phone call from someone asking how it felt. Maybe Greg was being framed. There was only one way to find out. Nick walked into Brass's office and found the detective eating a turkey club. "Brass, can you get a hold of Greg's home phone records?"

"Sure thing," said Brass. Usually, Nick would immediately leave Brass to his work, but this time, he couldn't move. And before he knew it, Nick found himself asking, "Do you really think Greg did this?"

After Brass hit another key, he looked up at the CSI. "I don't know. Greg is too nice a kid to kill anyone. God knows he's been through hell these last eight months."

The printer came to life behind them and three pages of records came out of the printer's machine. Brass grabbed the pages and handed the over to Nick. "What are you looking for."

"Evidence. I'll see you later."

And with that, Nick left the detective and went into the computer lab. He sat down by one of the computers and looked at phone calls received. At 2 AM that morning, Greg received a phone call from 555-9678. Nick typed the number into the computer and waited for a result. The number came back to a disposable phone. _Great, dead end._ Nick leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Is everything okay?" asked Grissom.

Nick turned around and looked at his boss. "Yeah, I'm just worried about Greg. This isn't something he would do, Griss."

"I know. You have his phone records?"

"Yeah. Greg called me and told me he received an eerie phone call at 2 AM this morning. I traced the number to a disposable phone."

"Well, did you get the transcript from that call?"

Nick looked at his boss. "Can you do that?"

"Most phone companies placed a chip into their phones so that if something weird were to happen, then they would have proof. But, you're gonna need Greg's phone in order to get it."

Nick nodded and stood up from the computer. "I'll head over to his house then."

Grissom nodded and allowed Nick to pass through. After Nick left, Grissom stood there until his pager went off. When he looked at the ID, it read:

Ecklie in Office 911

Grissom sighed and walked out of the door and down to Ecklie's office.

* * *

Greg had finally driven home after puking much of his guts out back at the bar. As soon as he got home, he fell down on his couch and shut his eyes. It had been a long day. And it was about to get even longer when his doorbell rang through the house. Sighing, Greg got up and walked to the door. When he opened it, he saw Nick standing at the door. "Hey Nick, let me guess; you're here to look for evidence."

With a sigh, Nick nodded. "Come on in," sighed Greg.

Greg let Nick through the door and went to the kitchen. "You want something to drink?"

"No, I'm fine," replied Nick as he went straight to the phone. Nick looked at it carefully and then picked up the receiver. "What are you doing?" asked Greg.

"I'm here to try and figure out what happened with that phone call you called in."

"So…you're not here to find evidence that incriminates me?"

Nick shook his head. "I'm gonna need to borrow your phone for a while. Do you mind…?"

"No. If this helps get the cops off my back and looking in the right direction, then take it," Greg replied quickly.

So Nick disconnected the phone, placed it in an evidence bag and walked out the door. Before he left, he turned to Greg and said, "I don't think you did this, and I'll make sure that the cops don't come and arrest you. We'll get this guy, I promise."

Greg nodded and closed the door as Nick got into his car and sped away. This was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

TBC…

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Please R&R!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys, I'm back! Who's seen Pirates of the Caribbean At World's End? I've already seen it twice! It was bloody awesome! Anyway, on with the show!**

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Grissom had walked into Ecklie's office and found Conrad Ecklie and the Undersheriff speaking to each. "Good, you're here. Take a seat Gil," informed Ecklie.

"I'd prefer to stand, if that's alright Conrad."

"Whatever floats your boat. Do you know why I called you in here?" asked Conrad.

"I have a pretty safe bet on why."

"I had him call you in to talk about Greg Sanders. I understand he is your lead suspect in the Caldwell case," recited the Undersheriff.

"So far, that is true. However, evidence has misled us in the past."

"Is that why you haven't arrested him yet, or is it because you know that if he is arrested then he loses his job?" asked Ecklie.

"Easy Conrad. Now, I want to know for sure that you are not fabricating evidence to help get Sanders out of this, so I'm gonna have Ecklie supervise your lead CSI on the case, is that clear?" ordered the Undersheriff.

"That's just fine. I'm sure Conrad is going to find that all evidence is legit. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a case to attend to."

And with that, Grissom walked out of Ecklie's office and went straight over to his own office. As he rounded the corner, he saw Nick walking through the door and towards A/V. "Nick, I need to talk to you."

"What's up Grissom?"

"Ecklie is going to supervise your case and look over all the evidence. He wants to make sure that we're not fabricating evidence to pin some other guy on the murder so that Greg stays out of trouble."

"Are you serious?"

Solemnly, Grissom nodded. "Great. My friend is being framed for murder and Ecklie and the Undersheriff think that he did it. This is BS Grissom and you know it."

Angrily, Nick pushed past Grissom and walked over to the A/V lab. Sighing, Grissom walked into his office. As he set his folder down on his desk, the phone began to ring. "Grissom," he said into the receiver.

"_Grissom, its Greg."_

Cautiously, Grissom looked around the room and then whispered into the phone, "Greg, what are you doing? You shouldn't even be calling me."

"_I know, but you've gotta listen to me. I didn't kill that guy. I don't even know who he is. I'm scared Grissom. I don't know what to do. Everywhere I go, people look at me and point and stare. One kid even said to his mom, 'Look mommy, it's the guy from the news. He killed someone.'"_

"Greg, calm down. Just sit tight and relax, okay? Nothing is gonna happen to you. Just enjoy your vacation and if you get called in for interrogation, stay calm, okay?"

"_Alright Grissom. I should probably go."_

And with that, the line disconnected and left Grissom worried. Greg was so innocent and young. Who would want to do this to such a sweet guy. Could it have been…no, he's in jail, he couldn't possibly have done it. Confused, Grissom leant back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

* * *

Greg had just hung up the phone when he laid down on his sofa and shut his eyes. This was such a nightmare. What would happen if he got convicted? No, he couldn't think like that. Nick was going to find the perpetrator and get the cops off his back. He was just relaxed when a knock came at his door. Slowly, Greg got up and walked over to the door. When he opened it, he saw a letter sitting on the ground. Greg picked it up and read the contents. It read:

Hey Greggo, how are you feeling? It sucks to be looked at as a killer, don't it? Now you know how I felt eight months ago. Things are just going to get worse from here on out. And by the time this is all over, you'll be begging that you were dead. Have a good night Greg.

Greg's hands trembled as he held the letter in his hands. Who was this guy and what did he mean when he said that things were going to get worse from here on out? Things were looking bleak for Greg's future. Greg was just about to call Nick and tell him about the letter when he decided that maybe it would be best to call tomorrow morning. Greg definitely needed something to drink. So, Greg placed the letter on the table next the door, grabbed his keys and got into his car, driving to the nearest bar in Las Vegas.

* * *

Nick had been working around the clock on getting the transcript from the phone call. It amazed Nick on how much Greg used his phone. He was just about to give up when the transcript popped up on the screen. As Nick read down the screen, his pager went off. When he looked down on the screen, his eyes grew wide. Nick quickly printed out the transcript and ran down towards the interrogation rooms. When he arrived, he saw Brass and Grissom standing outside one of the rooms. "Brass, what's going on?" asked Nick.

"Follow me," said Brass as he led Nick and Grissom into the room that looked into the interrogation room.

When they looked through the window, Nick was shocked. Sitting inside was Greg cradling his head in his hands. "Why did you bring him in?" asked Nick.

Brass sighed as he shook his head. "WHY DID YOU BRING HIM IN!"

"Calm down Nick," ordered Grissom.

"I'm not going to calm down until Brass tells me why he brought Greg…"

"Because I got a call earlier from a neighbor saying that she heard screaming next door and a gunshot. When I arrived, I saw Greg passed out in the living room holding a gun and a dead body in the kitchen."

Nick looked shocked at Brass. "I just called Ecklie, he's on his way to come talk to Greg."

"No, I want to talk to him," said Nick.

"Nick, I'm not sure that's a good idea," said Grissom.

"I don't care. You can fire me for all I care, but I'm gonna go talk to him and I'll record what is said in there so that we have proof I didn't lie about anything. Now if you'll excuse me," said Nick as he pushed through and opened the door into the interrogation room.

TBC…

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	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Greg sat inside the interrogation room, cradling his head in his head. Everything from the bar on was a total blur to Greg. He didn't even know how he ended up that house…and who the hell's house was it? Suddenly, the door opened and Greg looked up to see Nick walk in. "Nick? What are you doing here? I thought I was supposed to talk to Ecklie," said Greg with a somewhat raspy voice.

"I'm taking over for him. What happened Greggo?"

"I don't know. One minute, I'm sitting at the bar down in Freddie's, the next; I wake up to the police barging in and a gun in my hand."

"Come on Greg, think. Can you tell me anything that happened after the bar?"

Greg rubbed his forehead and stared down at the table. "There was this guy at the bar…really friendly. He offered to buy me a drink. I refused, but he kept insisting. I knew I wasn't going to get out of the situation, so I took the offer. After that…black."

"Did you feel woozy or out of it after you drank the drink?"

Greg leaned back and shook his head. "No, I don't remember anything. Why?"

Nick sighed and leant back in his chair like Greg. "What, you think that maybe the guy slipped something into my drink?"

"Greg, you know better than to accept a drink from someone else. We see rohypnol in a lot of rape cases. Do you remember what this guy looked like?"

Before Greg could answer, Ecklie came storming in. "Stokes! What the hell do you think you're doing? This is _my_ suspect and _my _case. Get out."

"_Your _suspect? He's an employee here!"

"And also the lead suspect in your murder investigation. Now get out of here or you'll find yourself on paid leave. Got it?"

"Guess I'll see you in a week then, because I'm not leaving," said Nick stubbornly as Grissom and Brass ran in and took Nick by the arms. "Sorry Conrad," apologized Grissom.

"Yeah, you should be, Gil. His behavior is strictly unprofessional and since he's on your team along with Sanders here, then I'm beginning to question the effect your leadership has upon the team."

"Hey! You shouldn't talk like that to him. He's a better CSI then you'll ever be," shouted Greg as he stood up and knocked the chair back against the wall.

"Do you lose your temper easily, Mr. Sanders?" asked Ecklie, turning to look at Greg.

With anger written across his face, Greg pulled stared at Ecklie very deadly. "Sit down, Mr. Sanders."

Still not taking his eyes off of Ecklie, he picked up the chair and sat back down in it, resting his head in his hands. Ecklie turned and looked at the three men standing in the room. "Now if you would all excuse me, I have a suspect to interrogate."

And with that, Ecklie sat down in the chair opposite Greg and opened the file folder. Nick stood rooted to the spot as Grissom and Brass tried to pull him out. "Come on Nick," whispered Brass as he reached for Nick's arm.

Nick just shook the detective off and stormed out of the room, followed by Grissom and Brass. "Nick, calm down!" shouted Grissom.

"Calm down? How can you tell me to calm down? My friend is looking at 25 years to life for a crime that he couldn't possibly commit. He doesn't even know the victims, so why kill them?"

"Well, unless you have any hard hitting evidence saying that it wasn't Greg…" said Brass.

"Actually, I do," said Nick, pulling out the transcript he printed out earlier. "This transcript came from Greg's home phone. An unknown number that led to a disposable phone. He asked how it felt to be 'under the microscope'. The only way the guy would know that Greg was a lead suspect is if he worked at the lab or is the murderer himself."

"Do you have a suspect, then?" asked Grissom.

"We can look up all of the possible people that could have a grudge against him."

"Well, that will be a long list," muttered Brass.

"Come on, are you guys gonna help me or not?" asked Nick.

Grissom looked at Brass and Brass at Grissom. "Let's get to work then," sighed Brass.

"Thanks guys," said Nick as he rushed down to the computers.

"This is going to be a long shift," muttered Brass as he and Grissom walked after him.

* * *

As soon as Greg got home that night, he locked all of his doors, locked his windows, shut off his cellphone and other ways of communication and went straight to his bedroom. This whole night had been a pain in the ass, and it was only ten thirty in the morning. Greg was beat tired and all he wanted was to go to sleep and hoped that when he woke up, this whole ordeal was just a bad nightmare. Slowly, his eyelids closed and Greg fell asleep. He was only asleep for ten minutes when something came flying through his bedroom window. Greg jumped up and saw a rock lying on the floor and a piece of paper taped to it. Not wanting to contaminate any evidence, Greg pulled out a tissue from his bathroom and picked up the note. As soon as he unfolded the note, he read:

**They're never gonna catch me! Have fun rotting in jail!**

This was hard hitting evidence. Normally, Greg would take it to the lab straight away, but he didn't want to go back there again. Things were too crazy there and he didn't want to see Ecklie's ugly face giving him the just-say-your-guilty-so-we-can-all-go-home look. Another option was to call Nick, but Nick was getting into too much trouble by so much as looking at Greg. Lucky he was a former lab-tech, huh? And that's when it hit him. Nobody was going to help him; he would just catch the guy himself. But Greg had to figure out a way to process evidence. And then, another light bulb turned on over his head. Quickly, he turned on his cellphone and called Archie. _"This is Archie."_

"Archie, its Greg."

_"Greg! What the hell are you doing calling me? If Ecklie found out that I was talking to you, he would have my ass."_

"Sorry, but can you do me a big favor? If I send you an envelope with evidence in it, will you process the evidence for me?"

_"How will you be able to do that? They'll know it's from you. After all, you will HAVE to leave a return address."_

"I'll use a PO box number. Please, think of it as field work…and you DO OWE ME for covering your ass when you were out on a date."

_"Alright…send me the evidence and I'll send you the results. If I get caught though, I'm not gonna take the fall though."_

"Thanks Arch, you're a live-saver."

_"That's what I do."_

Greg hung up the phone and quickly drew out an envelope and placed the note inside. After he sealed it closed, he wrote the addresses on the front and got into his car and drove to the nearest post office. Finally, he was going to get some answers.

TBC…

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	7. Chapter 7

**Today is my birthday, YAY!**

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Archie sat in his office, waiting for something to come in for Greg. He was risking his neck for Greg, but Archie had a feeling in his gut that Greg was onto something. After waiting for two hours, Judy came in with an envelope in her hands. "Archie, this came for you."

Quickly, Archie jumped out of his chair and snatched the envelope away from Judy. "Thanks Judy," replied Archie.

As soon as Judy was gone, Archie took out two gloves and unsealed the package. Inside, Archie found a note folded very neatly. Carefully, he unfolded the letter and read it over to himself. "Why did you send me this, Greg?" whispered Archie.

"Something wrong?" asked Grissom from the door.

Archie quickly looked up and stared blankly at his boss. "Oh, I was supposed to analyze this note for someone on Dayshift, but I have no idea what to do," lied Archie.

"Try dusting it for fingerprints," replied Grissom as he walked away.

Archie smiled to himself and ran down to the print lab. Inside, he found Mandy dusting a handle of a gun. "Hey Mandy, do you have any extra fingerprint dust?"

"Why?" asked Mandy, looking up from her previous task and staring at the very lost lab rat.

"I need to dust this for prints."

"Why don't you just leave it on the counter and I'll get to it…"

"I'd rather I do it myself."

Mandy just sat there and stared Archie down to nothing. "Archie, what's going on?"

Archie knew he wasn't going to get out of this, so he sighed and opened his mouth. "Promise not to tell anyone?"

Intrigued, Mandy nodded. "Nobody at the lab thinks that Greg is innocent, so he is sending me evidence to analyze for him. He sent me this note and wants me to dust it for fingerprints. Satisfied?"

Mandy lent back in her chair as the look of surprise spread across her face. "Are you serious?"

"Have I ever lied to you before?"

"True enough. Alright, I won't tell anyone. As soon as I find something, I'll page you, got it?"

"I owe you one Mandy," yelled Archie as he ran down the hall and back into the A/V lab. Mandy just sat there laughing and going back to the task at hand.

* * *

Hours had passed and finally, Mandy had found two fingerprints. After putting the prints into AFIS, she pulled out her cellphone and paged Archie. In just a matter of minutes, Archie came running down the hall at Flash-speed. "Find something?"

"Two prints on the edges of the paper. I'm running them through…" but before Mandy could finish, the screen blinked, "MATCH!"

"Looks like we got a match," smiled Archie.

Mandy hit a couple keystrokes and watched as the name and rap sheet popped onto the screen. "How is this possible?" asked Mandy.

"What's going on in here?"

The two lab techs turned to find the oh-so nosy Hodges standing in the door. "Oh, just processing evidence," replied Mandy.

They didn't have to worry about Hodges knowing that they were lying, because it was the truth. They were processing evidence and probably just hit a dead end as well. "Right," mumbled Hodges as he walked back down the hall.

"Archie, you may want to call Greg now…and we have to tell Grissom."

"No, we can't tell Grissom. He'll have our hides if he finds out what we're doing. No, we tell Greg and let him decide. Thanks for the help, Mandy," said Archie as he yet again ran out of the print lab.

He was just about to run into A/V when he decided that he had better get some privacy. So, instead, Archie ran up the stairs and onto the roof. Quickly, he drew out his cellphone and dialed Greg's number. _"Sanders."_

"Greg, I've found something."

_"What is it?"_

Looking around, Archie said, "Are you sitting down?"

_"No, why?"_

"You may want to; this is going to be huge."

_"Archie, just tell me what you found."_

"Well, I printed the note…well, more like Mandy printed the note, and we found two prints…"

_"Wait, you told Mandy?! I told you not to tell anyone!"_

"I know, but she forced me out of it. Don't interrupt, because this is where you break out the surprise factor. The prints came back to Jeff Simon, the one that kidnapped you eight months ago."

TBC…

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	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry for the very long delay in this story…bad writer's block, you know?**

**Chapter 8**

_"The prints came back to Jeff Simon, the one that kidnapped you eight months ago."_

Greg almost let the receiver slip from his now sweating hand. How is it possible that he was being contacted by someone in jail? "Are you sure, Arch?"

"_Computers never lie…neither does CODIS."_

This was perfect. Greg was wondering how things could get any worse when there came a knock at his door. Slowly, Greg set the receiver onto the table and looked out his peep hole. It was Ecklie and Brass. "Shit," he whispered as he ran back to the receiver.

After bring the receiver back to his ear, he whispered, "Archie, I want you to give the prints to Grissom. I got to go."

_"Greg, wait…"_ began Archie but was cut off when Greg hung up. As the receiver was set back onto the charger, another knock came, followed by Ecklie's voice shouting, "Sanders, open the door."

Greg ran to the door, but as soon as his hand made contact with the brass knob, he took a deep breath and opened the door. As soon as the door was opened, Greg came face to face with the friendly face of Brass and the not so friendly face of Ecklie. "Hi Brass…Conrad," greeted Greg.

"Do you mind if we come inside?" asked Ecklie.

Greg nodded and stepped aside to allow the two men through. As soon as they were inside, Greg closed the door and asked, "What can I do for you guys?"

"I want to talk to you about your case," replied Ecklie.

"My case?"

"Yes, your case. After all, you're the prime suspect in the two murders."

"I see. I guess you didn't get enough from the interrogation," muttered Greg as he sat on his couch.

"Let's not consider that or this an interrogation. Let's consider them a friendly chat."

"Whatever you say. Why don't we get this 'friendly chat' over with," replied Greg as Ecklie sat on the chair across from Greg and Brass standing next to him with a notepad in his hand. "Alright Sanders, where were you the night Tim Caldwell was murdered?"

"Let's see, I arrived at the scene six hours after he died, so that puts TOD around 8 PM, so I was at work filling out paperwork."

"Can anyone confirm that?"

"How about the cameras in the lab?"

"Then how do you explain an eyewitness placing you at the scene at the time of the murder?"

"Oh come on, Ecklie, people…"

"How well did you know Mr. Caldwell?" interrupted Ecklie.

"What?"

"How well did you know Mr. Caldwell?"

"I never met him once."

"Do you bank at the National Monument Bank?"

"Yeah, I've been with them for six years."

"So you're telling me that during those six years, you never came into contact with Mr. Caldwell?"

"No, and I'm really good with putting names to faces."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Why would I lie?"

"Because people lie. You said that yourself. Now then," continued Ecklie as Greg clenched his fists, "How well did you know Anthony Evans?"

"Who?"

"Your second victim."

"MY second victim?"

"Well, we found the weapon that killed him in your hand. Ballistics confirmed it. How well did you know him?"

"Look, I've never met Caldwell or Evans. Last night, I went to the bar, a guy offered me a drink, I accepted it and the next thing I remember, I woke up to police pointing guns at me. Last I checked, I can't shoot someone while unconscious."

"Don't be a smartass, Sanders. Both guns were registered to you."

"I've never purchased a gun in my life. I have no paperwork stating I do. I have an idea, why don't you run down to the gun stores that the guns were purchased and ask the owner if he can give you a description of what the guy looked like. THAT guy is your killer, not me."

"Alright Sanders. Now then, normally I would need a warrant to search your house…"

"That won't be necessary. Take whatever you want."

Ecklie smiled as he put on a pair of latex gloves and proceeded to the next room. Right as Ecklie disappeared, Brass leant in towards Greg and muttered, "When I get back to the lab, I'll get Warrick on those tapes from the lab. Also, I'll take Catherine with me to the store the guns were purchased to see if we can get a description of the guy."

"You don't think I did this?"

"Of course not. I know you better than that."

"You seem about the only person who does."

"I wouldn't say that. Nick got suspended for a week for talking to you before Ecklie could and Grissom can't touch evidence. The only thing Ecklie will allow him to do is look over the evidence and supervise it."

Greg smiled at the thought of everyone at the lab worrying about him. "Thanks Jim."

"Don't mention it, Sanders."

Just then, Ecklie came back with nothing. "Find anything?" asked Greg.

"I need to examine the clothes you were wearing the past three days."

"Let me guess…to test for blood and GSR," stated Greg.

"Greg, you don't have to…" began Brass.

"Then Ecklie will get a warrant. Wait here."

And with that, Greg left the living room and returned seconds later with three outfits. "All three outfits. Enjoy."

Ecklie snatched the clothes away from Greg and placed them in three bags. "Don't leave town. We may have more questions for you later on," he stated.

"I'm not going anywhere," replied Greg.

Ecklie just smirked as he led the way out of Greg's house and into the Denali that was waiting for them. As soon as they were gone, Greg pulled out his phone and dialed Nick's phone. After the Texan picked up the phone, Greg said, "Hey Nick, I got a favor to ask you."

"_What is it, Greggo?"_

"I'm heading down to the penitentiary outside of town to talk with Jeff Simon. I was hoping that maybe you would want to come with."

_"Why would you want to go talk to him?"_

"Because his prints were on a threatening note that I received."

"_And why do you want me to come?"_

"Partially moral support and partially in case Simon tries something."

_"And you think he's setting you up?"  
_

"I'm one hundred percent sure it's him."

There was a sigh on the other end and then Nick's voice replied, _"Alright, I'll meet you outside the Luxor. From there, we'll head over to the penitentiary. I've got your back, G."_

"Thanks Nick, you're a good friend."

And with that, Greg hung up his phone, grabbed his coat off from the couch and headed out the door.

* * *

"Greg…wait…" began Archie when the phone disconnected. "Damn," he muttered as he hung up his phone.

After looking at the results one last time, he printed out a copy and headed over to Grissom's office. He had just reached the door when he muttered, "If I get fired, Greg, I'm taking you down with me."

And with that, he opened the door. Grissom was sitting at his desk looking over a case file. "Hey Grissom," greeted Archie.

"What can I do you for?" asked Grissom without looking up.

Archie closed the door and sat down in the chair in front of Grissom's desk. "Uh…you see, Greg sent me this note and I dusted it for prints…and…" started Archie when Grissom's eyes shot up.

"Greg sent you evidence?"

"Well, actually, he was sent a note threatening him and he asked me to process it. Anyway, I found some prints and they came back to Jeff Simon," explained Archie, handing the findings to Grissom.

Grissom took the paper and looked over it closely. "Are you sure about these findings?"

"Computers never lie."

There seemed to be a glint in Grissom's eyes as he stared at the sheet of paper. "Good work," he stated.

"So…I'm not in trouble."

Grissom looked at Archie and replied, "If anyone asks, I found the evidence before I was taken off the case."

Archie smiled and headed back to the A/V lab, leaving Grissom is the best feeling he felt the past three days. Maybe the evidence was lying after all.

TBC…

**What do you think? Please R&R!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Nick waited patiently as the Luxor for Greg to show up. It was 6 o'clock in the morning when the red Chevy Blazer pulled up alongside the curb. The tinted window rolled down and Greg's head appeared. "Need a lift?" he asked.

"Very funny, Greg," laughed Nick as he got into the passenger seat of Greg's car.

Once he was inside, Greg sped off towards the penitentiary. "I called the warden and he told me that Jeff is in a high security ward. He is barely let out of his cell except for lunch, dinner, going to the library and visitors, which are slim to none," stated Nick as they drove down Boulder Highway.

"You don't say," laughed Greg.

The city slowly passed and the desert took over. This kind of solitude was the perfect place for any kind of isolation, like a state penitentiary. And that is exactly where they would find Jeff's new residency. As they pulled up to the prison, Nick turned to Greg and asked, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because it's him. He manipulates people like Terrance."

"But he was a convict and I'm a scientist."

"Alright, but let me do the talking."

Greg agreed to those terms and removed himself from the car. The entrance was easy, but walking though was much harder. The voices of all the inmates he and Nick had put there were shouting disgusting threats at them. Finally, they reached the security ward where they met the warden. "Howdy, fellas," he greeted, tipping his hat.

"Howdy warden. I'm Nick Stokes. This here is Greg Sanders. I called you earlier to speak with Jeff Simon."

"Of course, follow me."

The warden led them through the security ward to a secure area. "We've set up a secure room for you to talk to him. We have two guards standing outside the door and two on the opposite side of the screen with him."

"Why such the tight security?" asked Greg.

"You should be the one to know, Mr. Sanders," replied the warden, opening the door to allow them in. "Just let the guards outside know when you're done."

And with that, Greg followed Nick in. The room was a small, desolate room, separated by a transparent glass wall. On the opposite side of the glass was Jeff, handcuffed and set down behind a metal desk. Before Nick sat down, he turned to Greg and said, "Remember, stay off to the side and let me do the talking."

Greg nodded and stood in the shadows as Nick sat down at the desk. Greg watched as Nick greeted, "Nice to see you again, Jeff."

Jeff's voice echoed, "Hello, Stokes. Who did you bring?"

"It's none of your business. What do you know about the two recent murders?"

"You mean the ones where Sanders killed them?"

"Greg didn't kill them. But you do know what I'm talking about."

"Of course. I've been following Sanders closely."

That statement sent shivers down Greg's spine. Didn't Jeff do enough to him already? Finally, Nick asked, "We found your fingerprints on a threatening note sent to Greg Sanders. How do you explain that?"

"Note? What note?"

"You know what note I'm talking about."

"No…but if Greggo over there showed himself, I may just remember."

Slowly, Greg stepped out from the shadows and came to stand by Nick. "Hello, Greggo," he sneered.

"Just tell us about the damn note and the damn phone calls."

"You know…it's coming back to me…I heard about those people you killed and thought I'd mock you."

"Bull shit! You did it! You were the one that kill them!" shouted Greg, getting close to the glass wall. Nick jumped up from his seat and tried to push Greg back. "Now how can I do that, Greg? I've been in here."

"Greg, calm down!" gritted Nick, pushing Greg away.

Finally, Greg stopped pushing against Nick and backed off. Finally, Nick turned back to Jeff and said with anger in his voice, "Listen, we found your prints on a threatening letter that said you'll never catch me. How do you explain that?"

"Simple…Greg put them there."

"WHAT! How the hell would I get your prints?" shouted Greg.

Finally, Nick had enough. Storming from his seat, he grabbed Greg by the shoulders and stated, "Get out, Greg."

"What? No! I'm here for answers and I'm not leaving…"

"GET OUT, GREG!"

Finally, Greg glared at Jeff, who was smiling at him. With frustration, he stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him. Once the door was gone, Greg watched through the small window as Nick continued with his conversation with Jeff. It took an hour until finally, Nick emerged. Greg approached him and asked, "What did he say?"

Walking away, Nick replied, "Let's just go."

Confused, Greg asked, "What did he say?"

"It doesn't matter. Let's just go."

"WHAT THE HELL DID HE SAY, NICK?!"

Finally, Nick stopped and turned to look at his friend. Nick approached Greg and whispered, "What did you expect him to say, Greg? I did it. I'm framing Greg? He didn't say shit!"

"How could he have said nothing? You were in there for an hour!"

"Yeah, trying to get him to talk. All he did was talk about you. All he talked about was how he enjoyed his fun with you before. Now, if you want to know the full details, you can go ask him yourself."

And with that, Nick headed out of the penitentiary with anger. Greg reluctantly followed and together, they got back into his Blazer and drove off. They didn't talk the rest of the time. Nick was angry at something and Greg was angry at Nick for keeping it to himself. When they got back into town, Nick said, "Drop me off at the lab."

"What for? You're cars' at the Luxor."

"Just do it, Greg."

Reluctantly, Greg pulled off of the highway and headed straight for the lab. It wasn't a long before they approached the ever familiar lab. Once he pulled up to the sidewalk, Nick got out without so much as saying a word. Once Nick was gone, Greg drove off, angry and frustrated that he didn't learn a single thing.

* * *

Once Nick arrived at the lab, he headed straight for Grissom, completely ignoring the fact that he was suspended from the lab and technically wasn't allowed to go inside. He headed past everyone and straight to Grissom's office. When he walked inside, he closed the door and shut the blinds. "Nick? What are you…?"

"I need to tell you something," he replied without even looking at him.

Grissom watched in confusion as Nick walked over and sat down in front of the desk. "Me and Greg headed to the penitentiary and talked with Jeff."

"Why would you…"

"Because Greg wanted to. I talked with him and…I learned something."

"Does Greg know?"

Nick shook his head. "Why didn't you tell him?"

"Because he has enough on his plate right now. But I think you should know."

"Well…what is it?"

Nick took a deep breath and looked his boss deep in the eye. "What did he tell you?"

TBC…

**Please read and review!**


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